Page 13 of Demon Rider

That’s the best damn thing I’ve seen all day.

CHAPTER SIX

Kristina

After I got dressed, Tyson leads me back down the stairs to the expansive room where everyone is situated.

The walls are brown with wooden accents. Mismatched furniture are around the room adding different seating arears, along the one wall there is a bar, plus strangely a coffee bar off to the side of it.

I mean doesn’t love coffee, right?

A biker is sitting in a large chair with a woman on her knees in front of him, licking his dick, while he talking to the man next to him. Another woman is being fucked from behind while she is bent over a pool table.

“Come on, the kitchen is down the hall.” Tyson says close to my ear making me jump. “Fuck, sorry.”

I wave him off. “I was lost in my head, taking in the room.”

“Not what you was expecting?” I shake my head

“No.” he chuckles.

I follow him while he leads me down a short hall, then we step into a kitchen that is to die for. Cooking is my thing, thanks to my foster mother, she is an amazing cook, and I loved helping her.

There are two booths and one table with four chairs in the room, then the huge kitchen Range cooker that is the focal point of the room.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

“Later, baby, but you need to eat.” Tyson winks.

“Funny.” He laughs.

“You like to cook, huh?” I nod to him.

“Love it.”

“Well you will get your chance, but for now, let me take care of you.” He motions towards the table and chairs. “Sit.”

I do as he says, happy to have a meal cooked for me as exhaustion starts to set it. Yawning, I watch as he flits round the space, the scent of cheese makes my mouth water, and my stomach grumble.

He doesn’t speak to me while he makes the mac and cheese, just does the job he set out to do, but I don’t mind, it gives me time to think on what my next move it. Do I go to the police? Fuck, I showered. There is no evidence on me, plus, there is no man for them to arrest now.

I need to contact my family, and my best friend Shelly.

“Here you go.” He slides a bowl in front of me, and damn it smells good.

We both dig in. The smooth cheesiness coats my tongue, the pasta cooked perfectly, has my eyes closing, while I moan from the yumminess.

“Kristina.” Tyson husky voice has my eyes snapping open. “Stop, baby, you are not ready from me yet. We have a lot to talk about.”

Again his words have me pausing, like he steals off ways of thinking and breathing.

Why would I be ready for him?

I stare at the handsome man, his eyes focused on me while I look at him. Nothing makes sense. Hell the last four or five days have not made sense. I have seen things that I am fairly sure should not be seen.

Pushing my bowl away, my apatite gone. With my elbows on the table I bury my fingers in my hair, scratching my scalp. Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to focus on one thing to try and decipher, but it is impossible, it is like all my thoughts are jumbled, and nothing makes sense.

“This is all fucking confusing.”